


Princely

by ghermez



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Established Relationship, M/M, Modern Royalty, Prince & Valet, Romantic Fluff, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:42:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26458900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghermez/pseuds/ghermez
Summary: Hinata took Sakusa’s hand in his, and slowly, and meticulously, peeled off Sakusa’s glove. There, the skin on skin contact managed to calm Sakusa’s mind, blanketing him from his world of chaos and expectations.Then, with his eyes firmly on Sakusa’s face, Hinata bent his head and placed the daintiest kiss upon the back of Sakusa’s hand.“I promise.”or: Prince Sakusa has a valet whom he loves.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 32
Kudos: 122





	Princely

Sakusa’s blood boiled, and he swore he saw red as he stomped his way up the galley and into his chambers. No maid stood in his way, knowing very well that the shouting match he just had with his father meant the crown prince wasn’t to be approached for the next twenty-four hours. 

There was one person alone, who, with his own fire, could douse Sakusa’s rage.

And Sakusa found him in his en-suite closet, setting Sakusa’s pajamas on Sakusa’s chaise. 

“Crown prince!” squeaked his valet Hinata but Sakusa didn’t have time to placate him, Sakusa simply pushed and pushed and pushed until he had the man pressed into the closet door, the sock in his hand falling to the floor.

Hinata looked up at Sakusa with eyes like embers, fiery yet calmer than the raging tornado making a mess of Sakusa’s heart. Every bit of Sakusa thrashed inside him, pressing hotly against his insides, until his very skin threatened to melt away. This was what putting on his Prince face did to him. By all means, attending to his duties shouldn’t be this hectic thing, but ever since the media caught a whiff of the recent political marriage between Prince Motoya—his cousin—and some distant Prince Suna and chaos had been following Sakusa around. 

The only comfort he got was in the arms of his most trusted employee, his Hinata, his sun, his sunshine. But now, Hinata didn’t look extremely happy to be pushed around. He braced his feet, which made his entire body stiffen like one rigid log, and looked Sakusa square in the eyes.

“Will you use your words instead of your brute strength?” Hinata spat. Then after a pregnant pause, added, “Please?” Always the well-mannered, well-instructed valet. It made Sakusa want to push him further, see where Hinata’s years of lessons would fail him. 

So, Sakusa kissed him. 

Or he would have kissed him if it wasn’t for Hinata’s palm blocking his way. The feel of the soft cotton against his trembling lips was jarring, and Sakusa pulled away, unable to escape feeling the sharp cut of confusion and hurt no matter how aptly he concealed it. Or so he’d thought.

Hinata’s calm face crumbled, and he brought that same gloved hand over Sakusa’s cheek. Anyone else’s touch, even through fabric, might have made Sakusa recoil and retch. He didn’t have a name for the itch under his skin whenever someone’s skin, someone’s body, came close to his, the warmth of their vitality and life force so corrosive to his own peace of mind. 

“Crown prince...Sakusa…” Hinata trailed off, his hand heavy and warm through the cotton where he placed it on Sakusa’s cheek. It didn’t move. Didn’t caress. Didn’t even pinch his cheek like Hinata’s recently formed habit whenever they stole moments like this, which had become far and few between. 

“Forgive me,” Sakusa whispered, pushing the sound through a thick throat, and took another step backwards, but there was another hand on his cheek, the grip now turning a little firmer, pronounced, so he let them direct him back to where he was, close enough to breathe Hinata’s clean scent. There was a hint of spice in his cologne, as familiar to Sakusa as the feel of his sheets against his naked skin. How many times had Hinata leaned into him, close enough to inhale, buttoning his shirts and helping him into his intricate regalia whenever his father hosted dinner parties? He had stopped counting, but the effect was still the same dizzying, maddening ordeal as the first time. 

“Can you tell me what happened so I can properly help?”

Sakusa dipped his head lower, and Hinata’s gloved palms began caressing his cheek, fingering the strand of hair falling onto his cheeks, dipping under his ear, gripping his jaw, as if willing Sakusa to feel the support Hinata handed him so freely. 

A shiver ran through like Sakusa’s body like a knife through warmed butter. He wondered what the media, the whole world, and his father would make of this sight: of Hinata melting the rigid, unyielding furrow in Sakusa’s brows, arching Sakusa’s back with the very steady touch of his hand. 

“Komori is getting married. Naturally, my father wants me to follow suit and lock down some hapless, anonymous princess from some down on its luck kingdom to showcase just how benevolent and generous he is for allowing such a marriage.”

Hinata’s eyes closed, nothing more than a flutter of his short wispy lashes, but it was akin to being robbed of the sun, of warmth, and Sakusa felt extremely cold and lonely in that second where Hinata’s eyes didn’t look at him.

“I said no,” he quickly added, his hands fisting by his side, and for once he wished Hinata was worse at his job and forgot to dress him in his gloves. But Hinata was efficient and excellent and never dismissed Sakusa’s need to have a barrier between him and the world. But right then, Sakusa wanted to feel the tightness of his knuckles against plaster, and ragged sharp nails biting into the inside of his palm. Alas, his nails were taken care of ridiculously swiftly, shined and trimmed and buffed to perfection and his hands protected from any outburst Sakusa might have. It was ironic how well his hands were preserved considering how very little he used them. He wanted to gnaw and gnash at something, show that he wasn’t just some show-pony for his father to parade and use. 

He watched Hinata process the revelation in his mind, and wished he could take a dip into Hinata's brain and see what he made of their predicament.

Sakusa didn’t have rosy-colored glasses on blinding him from the reality that two people of _their_ social standing, the difference so steep it made him dizzy to consider ever putting Hinata in the eyes of the public as _his_ , and he knew that these feelings were child play and futile. Nothing could ever result from them. Still, he fancied living in a small cottage in a small town where his face didn’t invoke waist-deep bows and prostration. A place just of their own where Hinata could teach and Sakusa could read.

For a second, he amused himself with the idea of running away. It would be a good way to ensure he didn’t fall prey to his father’s schemes, but how far would eloping with his valet take him? He had the royal stipend, but that was controlled by an army of accountants and his bank account was monitored closely. God forbid Sakusa ever made an unnecessary purchase without the explicit and signed approval of the royal consultants. Weren’t princes supposed to live lavishly, spend money like fiends, and care very little of what their expensive lifestyles meant for their kingdoms coffers? The Miya Princes were in the news all the time, buying an island here or a fleet of jets there. Hell, Prince Atsumu recently gifted his fiance Prince Kageyama his very own volleyball stadium. 

Sakusa had left that newspaper a crumpled mess in the bottom of his trash once he was done reading that piece of news.

Then he’d looked at Hinata sitting across his table, polishing Sakusa’s watches, which in of itself was an uncommon occurrence since the ridiculous rules frowned upon employees and employers mixing. As if they lived in a time before the modern day comfort of electricity and freedom to love whoever they wanted.

Except Sakusa was living in the past. In a dingy, dusted past where his back was bent with the effort of withstanding all of his father’s ridiculous demands. 

“This future spouse of yours, does it have to be a woman?”

He couldn’t decipher what the question intended to imply but he knew something was there in the corner of Hinata’s curled lips, in the shining of his brilliant eyes. “I suppose not.” His father made a big deal out of reigning over a kingdom where everyone could love anyone. That, however, conveniently excluded his own son, but that had to do more with his father wanting to pick and choose Sakusa’s partners than it did with gender. That, however, was Sakusa’s own bone to pick with his father, and this was hardly the time to bring up the fact that a valet like Hinata could have a happy life with Sakusa.

His attention kept flitting out of his grasp, too caught in the way Hinata smiled at him. Damn it. Why were his affections so useless in turning over the tide, and not a surging power that could transform his own destiny?

“Why does that matter?” he asked because he couldn’t live with uncertainty, and that included uncertain intentions. Hinata’s intentions of all people Sakusa needed to learn. 

Hinata gave him a wider smile, adding more to the mystery of how the matter of Sakusa's impending forced marriage mattered to him, dropping his hands from Sakusa’s face—leaving Sakusa _bereft_ , and said, “Let me get your change of clothes.”

But before Hinata could slip from Sakusa’s grasp, Sakusa wrapped a hand around Hinata’s forearm. “Won’t you tell me?” When Hinata’s eyes remained shrouded by that hint of mischief, Sakusa added, “Please?”

Hinata took Sakusa’s hand in his, and slowly, and meticulously, peeled off Sakusa’s glove. There, the skin on skin contact managed to calm Sakusa’s mind, blanketing him from his world of chaos and expectations.

Then, with his eyes firmly on Sakusa’s face, Hinata bent his head and placed the daintiest kiss upon the back of Sakusa’s hand.

“I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't intend for this to be this long but... Maybe I want to write more in this verse if anyone pushes me hard enough. As always, comments are appreciated.


End file.
